Jethro: First to Fight (34 page)

“I don't know what we walked into. I
believe he knows what they are but can't say Corporal.”

Jethro put his tank top back on. “Not a
problem doctor. I will get a second opinion with a civilian doctor then.”

“No you will not,” the AI responded.

“
My
body,
my
problem,
Sir
,”
Jethro responded coldly.

“That won't be necessary,” the AI said.
“They are... beneficial to you and to the Marine corps. They are... let's say
gifts passed down from your ancestor.”

“Something in his DNA?” the doctor
asked, now curious.

“I can't say doctor.”

“I'll get it sorted out myself then,”
Jethro growled. He'd been poked and prodded enough, now he wanted answers,
something to compensate him for all his pain, time, and trouble. Having the AI
clam up on him and slap him down... it was
his
body damn it! A subsonic
growl rumbled deep in his throat while his tail thrashed angrily. His ears were
flat, eyes dilated in barely suppressed rage. A nurse nervously stepped back,
tipping a tray of implements over in her haste. The metal implements clattered
to the deck, the sound made the panther bristle even more.

The AI studied the panther for a second.
A second was an near eternity to an AI. He weighed giving the panther an order,
but the axiom: 'Never give an order you know won't be obeyed' immediately came
to mind. Frustrated, the AI checked what he could say and then used that
instead. “I see you won't be persuaded easily. I will add that... recent
exposure to an... item of your heritage has triggered the changes. That is why
during your initial evaluations they were seemingly ignored or overlooked.
Quite the contrary, it was in some ways because you have these... tumors that
you were allowed to become a Marine. Please do not do anything drastic or
stupid Corporal.”

“Damaging them might affect your cloak,”
the doctor said, resting a hand on Jethro's arm. He could tell the panther was
hovering near outright rebellion. Jethro exhaled slowly and then looked down at
the hand. “I am sorry I started this. Don't do anything hasty son,” the human
doctor said in earnest.

“Corporal, the only person who can clear
you for this knowledge is the admiral. I am curious how many others have
these... other than him. But you will not get any answers from a civilian doctor,
only more questions. You will have to wait until you meet the admiral to get
your answers... if he is willing to give them.”

“I'll think about it,” Jethro ground
out, trying to suppress his emotional response.

...*...*...*...*...

Jethro laid in his rack staring at
nothing, arms behind his head. He had one leg tucked up, thinking black moody
thoughts. The entire encounter in the sickbay left him in a foul mood. He
replayed the entire event in his mind, first from memory, then with his
implants. He focused on what the AI said, the little tidbits. His heritage. An
item from his heritage... what... wait, his armor? What about his armor? Was it
doing something to him? He scowled. He'd have to find out.

...*...*...*...*...

Firefly put a call in to Doctor Thornby.
Thornby answered after a few minutes, but she looked ragged. “I'm sorry to
bother you at this late hour Commander, but we've got a medical issue.”

“Oh? And is there a reason Doctor
Standish isn't the one calling? There is nothing wrong with him is there?” she
asked.

“No, I'm afraid it's a security issue.”
The AI explained part of the situation, how Doctor Standish and some of the
staff had experimented on Jethro, Letanga, and some of the other Neo's in the
hopes of better understanding and possibly replicating their cloaking ability.

“So...” She scrubbed her face with her
hands and then put them together in front of her. “What do you want to do? Why
is this so important?”

“It has to do with highly classified
Federation technology doctor.”

“Which is in a patient. Which was in a
patient
before
he joined up,” the doctor pointed out tartly.

“Yes. But it is still classified so I
can't allow it to be explored.”

Thornby frowned. “I see,” she finally
said. “And you said it's not malignant?”

“Quite the contrary doctor.”

She pulled up the panther's records and
studied them, then compared them to the new scans. “I'm curious as to why I
didn't see them when he signed up.”

“I believe you'd have to ask the admiral
about that.”

“Classified,” Thornby replied dryly.
“Lovely. So, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I think Doctor Standish has stopped the
investigation, but the Corporal is rather... mulish. He's usually pretty good
about obeying a command, but when it came at him cold and was about his own
body...”

“I can't blame the lad for getting angry
at being slapped down Commander. Nor should you.”

“If he involves a civilian it would be a
major security breach. He and the physician would be in a great deal of
trouble. If he survived a biopsy.”

“Oh?...” The doctor frowned, staring at
the avatar. Slowly her eyes widened. “Wait,
if
he survived? What do you
mean by that? It's just a biopsy!”

“For some yes, in his case... it is the
intrusion that can kill.”

Thornby stared, and then crossed her
arms in front of her. “So you're telling me if he goes poking around he's
liable to kill himself. And the doctor who helps him will get his ass thrown in
jail or worse. Great.”

“I'm sorry doctor. I'd love to tell you
more but...”

“Your virtual hands are tied.” She
frowned at his avatar and then her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You do know
I am Chief medical officer of the system.”

“I know. Which is why I brought the
problem to you doctor.”

“Lovely. As if I don't have enough on my
plate,” she said, looking away.

“A problem doctor?” the AI asked.
“Perhaps I could help?”

“No,” she finally said, exhaling. “Not
unless you can turn water into wine... or in my case a Neo into a human. Or I
should say a family of Neo's with an inferiority complex into homo sapiens.” She
closed her eyes, dropped her head and ran her hands through her hair in
frustration. “Forget I said that. Tired, not thinking straight.”

“I'll leave you alone then doctor.”

Thornby looked up. “I'll put a note in
his file not to investigate the tumors. I'll call Standish and tell him to back
off.”

“Thank you Commander.”

“You're welcome. I think.” She frowned.
“I'm not really doing it for you, I'm doing it for that kid. He's a good kid,
good heart. He deserves a straight answer.”

“I hope someday admiral Irons will be
able to give it to him ma'am,” Firefly replied quietly.

“There you go again,” she sighed. “Fine,
night,” she said, cutting the connection.

“Corporal, the tests have been
concluded. The doctor's investigation has
ended
,” the Major said, eying
the panther. Jethro knew why he'd been called in on the carpet first thing the
next morning. Getting called in to the proverbial principal's office to have
his knuckles rapped wasn't helping his temper any.

Major Forth could see that. He could
tell from the slight twitch in the panther's respiration, flick of his tail,
and narrowed eyes that Jethro didn't like that. He got up and went around the
desk and then leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Look Jethro, I don't like
it and you don't like it, but that's the way things are sometimes.”

Forth watched for a response. The
panther didn't say anything at all. Finally Forth sighed. “And you know life
isn't fair. We don't always get what we want, and in this case, you also know
classified is classified, no matter the reason. Drop it. You don't have a need
to know. At least not right now.” He studied the panther and then sighed. “At
the fracking ease Jethro,” he said, taking his officer insignia leaves off. He
tossed them on the desk. “Off the record. Let's hear it.”

“Sir.
My
body. Being told like a
child that I don't have a need to know what is growing inside my body, what it
is doing to me...Why I am in pain...” Jethro seethed.

“I see.” Forth grunted. “They didn't
tell me that part.” He studied the cat for a long moment. “I don't blame you
son. It doesn't change anything though. Don't go poking around, you will end up
sorry and sore. That part is guaranteed.”

Jethro's eyes dilated ever so slightly.
“Sir...”

“Jethro,” the Major sighed as he closed
his eyes. “I'm not kidding. I'm not talking about the threat of a security
breach, we're talking about your life. The grapevine says that if anyone so
much as pokes one of those things you're dead. I don't know why. Suicide
switch?” he said and then shrugged. “Poison sack? No clue. No fracken clue and
yeah, that bothers me too. I don't like the idea of this, not at all. If you
got hit and one of those things ruptured, it could kill you. So yeah, not a
happy camper here,” he growled, staring up at the ceiling.

“And of course it doesn't change
anything,” Jethro said, voice easing as tension leeched out of him a little.
Knowing the Major understood his concern, sympathized, and wanted to help, that
helped him. It helped him at least to cope with it.

“Nope, not a blessed thing,” Forth said.
“But that doesn't mean you can't go snooping to see what it might be without
getting doctors involved.”

“Sir!” Firefly interjected.

“Butt the frack out Commander,” Forth
snarled, looking up at the ceiling again, this time pissed. “I told you I'd
handle my people and I
will
.” Jethro's eyes widened and then he snorted.

Forth paced for a moment, then flopped
down into his chair once more. He indicated the Corporal should sit. Jethro
reluctantly did so, flicking his tail to one side as he lowered himself into
the human style chair. “It still doesn't change anything, and I expect you to
keep whatever you find to yourself. I'm betting Standish and Thornby and others
will be poking around for a while too. At least until they run into dead ends.”

“Possibly sir.”

“I'm sorry son, it's just how it is.
Sucks I know, get over it. You're a Marine. Suck it up and move on.”

“Sir...” Jethro looked away briefly.
“Sir, do you remember some of your ancient history?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“Sun Tzu?”

“Um... yeah, Art of war.”

Jethro took a deep breath and went for
it. “If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of
battle. But if you know yourself and not your enemy, For every victory you will
suffer a defeat. If you know not yourself or your enemy you will lose.” The
Major cocked his head and slowly picked up his officer leaves. He stared at
them for a long moment. “How can I fight a battle sir if I don't even know
myself?” Jethro asked, staring into his eyes.

Slowly the Major clenched his fist
around the leaves until he felt them dig into his hand. He sighed. “You
paraphrased that a lot, but I got the gist of it. The answer is... I don't
know. What I do know is you've already fought, fought hard and won. Don't
forget that. Whatever this is, you won't let it stop you.” He thought about how
it would prey on the panthers mind, creating doubt, sowing dissension. No, this
wasn't an answer. “Until then, go. Permission to attend college classes granted.”

“Sir?” Jethro asked. He hadn't put in
for more classes.

“You heard me. Brush up on your history
and biology. Maybe talk with your grandmother the matriarch. Maybe she can shed
some light on this. But keep any answers your find...”

“To myself. Yes sir,” Jethro replied,
nodding.

The Major nodded. “Good man.” Jethro
took that as a hint of dismissal. He surged to his feet, feeling oddly better.
He came to attention. “Dismissed,” the Major said, waving a hand as his free
hand put his leaves back on. He picked up a tablet as the hatch closed and then
tossed it back.

The Major toyed with a stylus, looking
at the tablet. “You know, the hell of it is, the kid is right. Damn it.”

“Can I get into this now Major?” Firefly
asked from the overhead speaker. The AI sounded a little put out. That was just
too damn bad.

“Fine,” the Major sighed, flicking the
stylus away. “Let's hear it.”

“First, good job. I'm not happy about
the results, but I understand you had to give him something. And Major, I do
sympathize. But I am... stuck. Trapped. I can't go on.”

“I see.”

...*...*...*...*...

Jethro took a couple of extra light
military and civilian college courses, along with the recommended biology
classes. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, his search of the material
came up empty. He'd already learned some basics in boot, things like basic
first aid,  and communications. They served him well in the biology class,
but not so much in the computer course. He'd taken several other classes
afterward, but taking the advanced courses cleared his way to promotion.

He struggled with the civilian side, it
was hard since he didn't have a formal education. He was amused by some of it
after a while. Most was book work since they didn't have the equipment on hand.
That made it easy, he downloaded it to his implants and then set them up to
sleep teach him the lessons, sometimes chapters ahead of the class.

Asazi had taken some of the same class
load he had. She'd even gotten in to some of the early DI courses, though she'd
come back and said that the Corporal trying to teach it didn't know his ass
from his elbow. She'd quietly made Lance Corporal, surprising the squad. Gunny
had pinned her stripes on and then they had been called to an exercise before
they could give her any form of 'wetting down party'.

He was curious as to why command was now
opening up promotions. Scuttlebutt had it that promotions had been on permanent
hold because of the admiral's departure and the lack of ships. Apparently
something had changed. It took him a few minutes of musing before he finally
remembered the orbital forts and stations. Slowly he nodded. Yes, each would
suck up people. Also Agnosta. With a couple thousand Marines, their families,
and some naval personnel off in another system, they would open a hole for more
people here in Pyrax.

San Diego was another thing, they had
finally gotten the solar farms large enough to allow some expansion in the
Bernal sphere. Not a lot, but they could restart work on the interior. That
demanded labor.

The Anvil college was a popular
destination in the system, one of the brightest spots in the future of the
system. It's ability to link with those with implants and the colleges
acceptance of correspondence courses had allowed it to have a dynamic class and
student body. Already satellite college campuses had begun construction on two
of the largest colonies, and another inside San Diego. San Diego would have an
almost purely military student body of course though, because the academy and
advanced tactical training course would be there, or so they said.

...*...*...*...*...

The class on biology didn't help. The
birds and the bees ticked him off. The kids in class giggled about it, so much
it distracted him so he switched to attending online. His questions of benign tumors
that do things only confused him, the answers in the data were way over his
head. He couldn't ask anyone, couldn't involve anyone, so he remained
frustrated.

He dropped out of the course when they
focused on reproduction. He really didn't care about the birds and the bees, he
wanted to  know what was going on in his own body. He'd been tempted to
get another student to take a biopsy, but had decided that letting a kid with
no experience cut him might not be the wisest of ideas. Besides, he would scar,
and the scar would compromise his cloak.

Stymied he switched to a required
history class. The class was on the Xeno war. The course was light, really a
child's primer on the conflict. It was an interstellar conflict, intergalactic.
Not
Intragalactic
, but truly intergalactic. The Xeno's had come from
outside the milky way many thousands of years ago fleeing some other race, or
so the sketchy history blurb about their species said. They had swept the milky
way with a broom, obliterating any intelligent life they had found before they
had run into the Federation. They had tried and succeeded in infiltrating the
Federation, and when they had enough information they had acted, striking fast
to hammer each colony world into rubble. Thousands of worlds, billions, no
trillions
of sapients had died before the Federation had picked up enough intelligence to
strike back.

The war that had followed had raged
through the milky way, burning planet after planet. Admiral Irons was mentioned
in the history class, he had created many things including the nova bomb. From
the sound of it, it hadn't worked out as he had planned. Instead of a terror
weapon to cow the Xeno's into surrendering the Federation had shown the other
side something possible and they had copied it. Then true darkness had started
with blinding bursts of supernovas consuming everything. Stars were bombed,
collapsing into black holes, magnetars, neutron stars... he winced. The core
worlds had been gutted by the damn Xenos. Trillions had died.

Somehow, he still wasn't clear on how,
the history book didn't say, but somehow Federation Intelligence had gotten
it's hands on a Xeno navigational suite that hadn't suicided. They had taken it
apart molecule by molecule and then sent the information out to all the remaining
ships for vengeance just ahead of the nova that consumed Sol.

Unfortunately that had left the other
home systems unguarded, a calculated risk that had blown up in their face for
nearly a year. For nearly a year the Xeno's were unopposed, moving from system
to system tearing it apart. Some systems had fought gallantly, some had built
fleets to flee into the darkness. No one knew what had happened to them. But
then word of what was happening to their own worlds got back to them and they
had left.

From there the history was sketchy.
There was speculation that the fleets had met up in climactic battle and torn
each other apart, or that one side or the other had initiated a nova bomb
obliterating both and the system they were in. No one knew for sure. All they
knew was that for seven centuries the Xeno's had never returned.

Jethro tapped the tablet against his
muzzle. That thought bothered him now. No one knew. No one knew if the Xeno's were
still out there. They assumed they were all dead. Did the Xeno's think the same
thing when they left the remnants of the Federation? Could they have survived?
Troubling thoughts, he thought, setting the tablet aside and turning off his
rack light. He did his best to put it out of his mind.

...*...*...*...*...

When he finished the Xeno war class
Jethro hunted around. He didn't like the field, only one course was available
that he needed for promotion, a class on intelligence. He frowned, staring at
it before he finally gave in and signed up for it.

The class was an in introduction to
intelligence, Lieutenant JG Irene Teague was a last minute fill in to teach the
class. It was a short two week class. Jethro spoke with her after a class when
she had a free moment. “What techniques work best for interrogation?”

“What do you think?” she asked, smiling
as she packed her satchel.

“Well, I usually growl and they get
scared and piss themselves silly.”

“Right,” she snorted. “We call that bad
cop by the way,” she said. “There are many techniques, but the best is to be a
listener.”

“A listener?”

“Well, we've found that a combination of
isolation, good cop bad cop, a little carrot and stick, and careful questions
have been the best ways to tease information out of our POW's,” she said.
“Comparing notes and seeing who is lying about what is also very useful.”

“I bet the implants and security
recordings help sir. What about the carrot part?”